VOWS OF MARRIAGE | ✔ [Under Editing]

2 | The Honeyed Evening

📜SIDDHARTH 📜

The warm wind splashed across my face as I gazed out of the car window, letting the fresh air of Chittorgarh soothe me. The very kingdom that would soon rest on my shoulders. That thought sent a ripple of anxiety through me, prickling my skin.

I looked out at the busy streets, vibrant with life. But the moment the people noticed the royal cars, they stopped what they were doing. One by one, their heads bowed in respect as their eyes landed on me. It was a custom I had grown up with, yet this all still felt strange.

I brushed by with a tiny smile and acknowledged them with a small nod. Though pretending to be as confident as I could, the disgust and judgments didn't flicker a bit from the people's eyes. I could feel their dislike towards me. Their harsh criticisms were clear in their eyes, making my insides burn with even further uneasiness.

I sucked in a quick, uneven breath to calm my nervousness. I wish I could have the reason behind why my own people have such crude opinions about me. What wrong did I even commit to face such bitter stares?

No matter how hard I try to cover my fears with stony expressions or fake smiles, I pass towards the people, this turmoil, this ache in my chest, just wouldn't lessen. Instead, it would burn even fiercer, until it turns everything inside me into ashes.

Gulping down the trivial worries, I was about to close the window until something silvery, yet colorful, caught my attention.

"Stop the car!" I commanded my driver. A screeching sound followed as the car came to an abrupt halt.

The two heads turned towards me, their eyebrows raised with a question at my sudden order. But ignoring them, I unlocked the car door and moved out to the streets. My bodyguards were already behind me on a trail.

I soon noticed everyone had stopped their activities and immediately bowed their heads in respect. Again!

I sighed inwardly. I understood that this was part of the customs, part of the beliefs that surrounded the royal family. But what was the point of all this? What was the point of showing respect when their hearts didn't feel it? And even if some of them genuinely respected me, couldn't they treat me like a normal person for once? Not like a prince or the future king of Chittorgarh?

Shaking my head, I crossed the road before my feet came to an abrupt halt as I stood in front of the vendor who was selling jhumkas—exquisite and prettiest jhumkas in my wife's language.

"Kunwar-sa," The middle-aged man selling the jewelry uttered with surprise and stood up from his seat while I examined the jhumkas.

These were probably the ones my wife didn't already own. After all, that woman had an entire room dedicated to her precious collection of jewelry. And I'll be damned if I say something even slightly incoherent about her obsession with them.